<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Strawberry and Lime Popsicles by Luluthechoosingcrow</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24563074">Strawberry and Lime Popsicles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luluthechoosingcrow/pseuds/Luluthechoosingcrow'>Luluthechoosingcrow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Greta Van Fleet (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Frottage, Greta Van Teens, Hot Weather, Ice Play, Kissing, M/M, Mild Smut, Neck Kissing, Popsicle play, Popsicles, Sibling Incest, Smut, Teasing, Twincest, Well - Freeform, mentions of others - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:00:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,043</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24563074</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luluthechoosingcrow/pseuds/Luluthechoosingcrow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s fucking hot. They’re bored. They’re also home alone. Why not remedy the two and take advantage of the third?<br/>---<br/>The twins suck on some popsicles, and each other.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jake Kiszka/Josh Kiszka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Strawberry and Lime Popsicles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            [Restricted Work] by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/helena_s_renn/pseuds/helena_s_renn">helena_s_renn</a>. Log in to view.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It’s been in the high nineties all week and I’ve eaten so many popsicles. This somewhat stemmed from that, though, really, I just started writing and let it flow. The best stuff comes that way, doesn’t it? Like the twins teasing each other on a hot day. I’ve been needing this. They’re about 19 here, I’m imagining. Also, this temp isn’t hot for me but I’m from California and they’re from Michigan, so.</p><p>*A line in this story about Sam's smelly thirteen year old pits is pulled almost directly from "Summertime" posted by user helena_s_renn. It's her headcanon!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harsh sunlight - as harsh as it got in Michigan - beat against the exterior of the house, but inside, it was cool (enough, anyways, if you sat still). The old, whirring A.C. was actually doing the least of the work in bringing down the temperature; most of the 78 degrees Fahrenheit environment was due to closed doors, no lights, and a strategically opened window catching a cross-breeze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake lay upside down on an armchair, playing air guitar along with Elmore James, fingers gliding over vibrating air as he slid along with the King. His twin was sprawled on the couch, adjacent to him -- practicing some sign language he had learned from a friend. Two pairs of short, muscular arms waved through the air, each embodying intense emotion and learned skill in separately unique ways. As always. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Dust My Broom’ faded away on the record player, and Josh let his arms fall limpy across his chest. He had practiced enough for the day. His brain hurt. Across from him, Jake, too, had fallen still as he turned his face towards a gust of wind coming from the west window of their living room. It was 9 A.M. and the sun had yet to wither that side of the house or the air surrounding it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Popsicles,” Jake sighed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Josh grunted in agreement. They both remained still, silently begging the other to get up and venture into the kitchen; neither budged, until Josh finally sat up and strolled leisurely across the floor. Jake realized a second later what his twin already had: the freezer would provide a more than worth-it blast of cold air to the retriever of the popsicles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Josh was already up, though, so Jake let his head fall down again and waited. His eyes slipped closed as the next song started up and he got lost in the recountings of troubles in a land much hotter and drier than his. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A stick of fruity ice pressed against his throat, startling him. Josh stood over his body - upside down, from Jake’s point of view - holding the wrapper covered stick and grinning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake took the offered treat and stuck the tip in his mouth, maintaining eye contact. Another contest. Josh’s bushy left eyebrow raised and he did the same, pink lips suctioning around his popsicle as his eyes closed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His brother’s face was the definition of bliss, Jake decided. Hair damp from sweat, cheeks flushed, eyelashes fluttering at the sensation of sweet and cold and sticky being prodded further into his mouth. He looked delicious, even more than the lime popsicle Jake himself was sucking on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What flavor did you get?” Jake rasped, chasing a drip of juice down Josh’s chin until the back of a birds’ bone wrist swiped at it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Strawberry,” Josh whispered back, just as quiet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The whole house was quiet, actually. Muted and still, like it was waiting for something to happen -- no birds chirped outside, the dogs lay asleep in whatever corner they had chosen, and even the breeze had died down for a moment. The A.C. in the northern window gave a puff and then shut itself off, as if breathing its last dying breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmm,” Jake finally replied. Somehow, he managed to fit his hum into the stillness of the moment without breaking it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then Josh was moving, bending, flipping his body around mid-leg swing so that, when he straddled Jake’s stomach, they were facing each other both right side up. Ake grunted and squirmed against the cushion, minutely shifting so that his spine wouldn’t be pressured into pain by Josh’s weight on top of him. His brother would always be light, carry-able, welcome to him, but that didn’t change the odd angle or his finicky back. He could at least take comfort in the fact that Josh always got the same pinched nerve when he bent a certain way, too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You still have juice on your neck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Josh was peering down at him - at his jugular, eyes sharp and considering - eyeing the spot he had pressed Jake’s popsicle into his skin before giving it to him. He held his own pop in one hand, stretched out and away from their bodies, while his head lowered. Josh’s other hand reached down to brace on the floor past his twin’s head, holding his shifting weight so the both of them wouldn’t go sliding out of the chair and crashing to the carpet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slick and warm-cold. Josh’s lips were cool from the extended contact they’d had with his popsicle, but his internal heat escaped in huffed breaths from the back of his throat to the skin of Jake’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sliding his free hand through his twin’s damp curls, Jake returned to sucking on his popsicle. The lime was tart and refreshing, a perfect juxtaposition Josh’s ultra sweet strawberry. And his warm, heady mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You taste good. Not as… salty as I would have thought,” Josh observed, delicately latching his teeth onto a bit of skin and tugging. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake’s hand tightened in his hair, fingers scratching at Josh’s scalp. He bit back a moan as his brother’s mouth moved away from the bite mark towards his jaw, leaving shivering trails of saliva in its wake that got cooled by the breeze from the window. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s cause I showered this morning. Unlike you, smelly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah?” Josh taunted. He swirled his tongue slow and dirty up to Jake’s ear. “You like it though. Me, all over you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake snorted. “You, yes. Your sweat, not so much. You smell like a giant ballsack.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Josh huffed, offended. They both knew Jake was exaggerating - a little bit - but they wanted to play. Alleviate some of the boredom. And the heat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a quick motion, a pink-ish popsicle was smeared over Jake’s forehead and Josh’s face was half a foot higher than it had been -- out of the way. He laughed, eyes bright and wicked, when Jake scowled and yanked his hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! What the hell, I just told you I showered.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and? You looked hot. I wanted to cool you down.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Josh leaned down again, but, this time, his mouth landed on Jake’s temple instead of his throat. He blew some long hair away from his nose and then descended on the stripe of melted juice, tongue out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No matter how he rolled his eyes, Jake couldn’t exactly see what Josh was doing beyond his - their, same shape - prominent brow bone. But oh could he feel it. That pulsing tongue he knew so well was licking over a part of his body that shouldn’t have felt so erogenous, but it was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>More likely, the sensuality was just Josh. Jake didn’t think that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> had sexual nerves in his forehead, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Josh did, if he were to do the same to him. His twin had always been extra sensitive to physical sensations, taking pleasure in the slightest grace of a touch anywhere. It was a great way to tease him when they were out in public, or around other people. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake realized that he hadn’t attended to his own popsicle in a minute, and that the top bit was slowly turning to slush that would start dripping any second. Instead of sticking it in his mouth like usual, he let the drops land on the tan skin of Josh’s shirtless shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The gasp it caused was beautiful. Josh’s head reared up, eyebrows furrowing as he looked down at Jake’s smirk, then the light green popsicle in his hand. His mouth scowled, stained red and wet, but his eyes were embers. Excited. Jake could feel it in the air. And against his hip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tit for tat, bro,” the younger (well, second-birthed) twin muttered, maneuvering Josh until he could latch his own mouth to his neck, and then make his way down to the fine boned shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Josh, true to Jake’s previous assertion, tasted… riper. Sweaty, musky, “manly” as he said (really, it was just gross. Like when Sam refused to wear deodorant when he’d first turned 13, Jake thought). Adding the tang of the cool lime mingling with the salt, it was almost like drinking that margarita his mom had shared with him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With his tongue training down every last drop that he’d spilled, Jake felt more juicy rivulets running onto his body. This time, tracing along his cheekbone. Josh turned his head attacked with a gentle ferocity, his licks and sucks eventually turning to sweet kisses and nuzzles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake held his ground, continuing to leave hickeys along the line of Josh’s shoulder. He wasn’t going to give in, yet -- Josh was trying to make him desperate for more. He liked to be begged. But, Jake had stamina, plenty of it, and he was determined to make Josh be the one to give in this time. A two-for-two streak, if you counted the earlier popsicle run. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was working. Jake slurped up the melted juice from his popsicle and then reattached his mouth to make a biting bruise. His free hand trailed down from Josh’s hair, feather light, gaining more pressure as it traveled down the highway of his spine towards his ass. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A fine ass indeed. Josh hummed and squirmed against him, rubbing his growing erection into Jake’s belly. Their bare torsos slid and twisted, using sweat as a lubricant to ease the friction between hairless, toned chests and trembling bellies. No matter how much Josh humped or whined, kissing desperately all over his face, Jake didn’t budge from his hickey-trail over his brother’s shoulder or his slowly moving body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, Josh groaned and buried his face in Jake’s neck. “Please,” he muttered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake grinned. That was what he had been waiting for; he grinned and mouthed back up to Josh’s face, kissing him hard as his hips ground upwards. His twin whined in relief as the teasing friction was replaced with steady, if slippery, thrusts, and kissed back eagerly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On an afterthought in his still mischievous mind, Jake actually let his popsicle rest on Josh’s back, smearing his shifting skin with the cold and naughty treat. Josh yelped and bit his lower lip, sticking his own strawberry pop in between their chests. Jake’s turn to shout into his twin’s mouth. The ice was cold on his niples, and noticeably sticky in a way plain water wasn’t, but it felt good. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pushed Josh back with a splayed hand in the middle of his chest, prying them apart as pink-red goo 8ran between them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Better… be careful. Mom will kill us if we get anything on her furniture.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm, true. This will drip off my back any minute. Maybe you should clean it up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“From behind?” Jake asked, starting to get excited (well, more than he was already). Josh rarely let him do it doggy style, he said it was undignifying. Jake was sure he got scared with how much he liked it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, from behind. On the floor,” Josh affirmed, swinging his legs off of Jake in the same motion he’d used to get on him in the first place. He knelt in the middle of the living room, not worried for once about getting caught messing around. Their parents were at work, and Ronnie and Sam were at school. No one would be home for hours, until 3 at the earliest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jake rolled off the armchair a lot less gracefully than Josh, cursing to himself when he saw some of the pink juice on his chest fall to the carpet. Oh well. Like he’d said, they had hours; plenty of time to clean up… after. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I still have some left,” Jake observed, eyeing the melting popsicle in his hand. He didn’t particularly want to eat it anymore, but he wouldn’t mind doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>other</span>
  </em>
  <span> things with it. Namely, painting a trail down either of Josh’s quaking thighs, and then swirling the last bits in his mouth while he sucked Josh down to the root. The cold would make him shout, and that was always Jake’s favorite. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sing it, Joshie,” he muttered, licking at the lime juice on his twin’s hip as Josh shuddered in anticipation. The A.C. in the northern window beeped and turned itself on, whirring quietly as the sun climbed in the sky, unnoticed. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>